


Half-Caf Tuxedo Mochas

by fuzzyfying



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Stiles Stilinski, F/F, fiona fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyfying/pseuds/fuzzyfying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison just wanted to get her coffee, just once, without waiting Stiles to finish the annoyingly gorgeous blonde's ridiculous drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half-Caf Tuxedo Mochas

**Author's Note:**

> hey all! i wrote this quite awhile ago, but we've been transferring stuff to ao3 so i thought i'd put it here :)

“I’d like a 2% grande double-blended frappuccino in a venti cup, I’m watching you so make sure you use milk that’s been steamed and not just the stuff lying on the counter, coffee base, and I know you can do a ristretto pull, Stiles, so that would be lovely, but make the rest half-caf, with java chips and one pump of white mocha and one pump normal mocha, and it would be great if you could make one of those sugar-free. Also, if you could blend in the whipped cream, second blend, and top it off with the coffee flavored stuff. Oh, and can you put a little caramel drizzle on there for me? Thanks, sweetie.”

Allison groaned. This was the third day in a row she’d been stuck behind this chick in the leather jacket and the criminally bright lipstick, and at this point she’d memorized the order. Half-caf black and white mocha frappucino, with the whipped cream blended in, and that godforsaken caramel drizzle. She would be surprised that the barista hadn’t also memorized it, if it weren’t for the fact that the order was really fucking complicated. All Allison wanted was plain black coffee. A little more pointedly, Allison let out an exaggerated yawn. She needed her coffee.

This time, frappuccino lady heard her.

“Got a problem?” She asked sweetly, batting her lashes, miraculously dark considering how incredibly blond she was, in Allison’s direction. When Allison didn't respond except to roll her eyes she added, “I’m in here every day, I’m like, half their business. I’m pretty sure they would have gotten rid of the sugar-free chocolate if I didn’t keep ordering it.” Her smirk was impressive and intriguing, and Allison kinda wanted to wipe it off her face, in more ways than she was willing to admit.

“Yeah, well, as a member of the other half, I’m curious.” Allison normally wasn’t this snarky, but something about this woman brought it out in her. Maybe it was the cat eye-- her wings were perfect, and now matter how many times Lydia tried to teach her, Allison could never accomplish that swoop. Allison normally hated plaid, but the plaid pants combined with the leather jacket and flawless eyeliner? She made it look totally effortless. “How long did it even take you to come up with that whole thing?”

Vampire Lips smirked again as Stiles, Allison’s second-best friend and the barista, added the last touch to the frozen monstrosity and handed it to her. “Two months, three days.”

She strutted away without another glance in Allison’s direction.

“Allison, you’re still looking.”

“Just give me the damn coffee, Stiles.”

 

-

 

The next day, Allison took the early bus, having woken up at 5 to the sound of her roommate’s extensive blow drying routine. When she got to the coffee shop, there was no line. Stiles greeted her as she walked in, and started preparing her drink.

As she walked up to the cashier and told him her order, she heard a snort from behind her. Turning around, Allison saw her favorite fellow customer wearing that stupid smirk again.

“Got a problem?” Allison mimicked, though she was somewhat less irritated than she would have expected.

The woman raised her eyebrows. “It’s just, why would you even come to a coffee shop if you were just going to order a drip coffee? Can’t you just do it at home?”

“My coffeemaker got lost in the mail,” which, actually, was true. It’s just that Allison had moved a couple months ago and still not bought a new one. Her father had offered to get one for her, despite his dislike of coffee, just so she would stop spending so much money at this café.

But Allison had been attached to that coffeemaker-- some of her few remaining good memories of her mother were directly attached to learning how to make a perfect latte, or the difference between African and South American beans. She sort of kept hoping it would show up in the mail one day.

Meanwhile, Stiles handed both women their drinks.

“I think I’ve finally got it down, Erica, try it and tell me if I remembered everything.”

Erica, who had looked unconvinced by Allison’s remark, turned away to focus on the disaster she called a coffee, looking wary. The practiced smirk slipped away as she sipped the coffee, softening her features and causing Allison to realize that she was actually kind of pretty, when her expressions were a little less masked and a lot more sincere.

“This is perfect! Thanks, Stiles!” She grinned, a real smile this time, and wow. She really was lovely.

She flounced away before Allison could realize she was staring.

“Alli-”

“Don’t even, Stilinski.”

 

-

 

Unfortunately, the next time she ran into Erica, Allison had company.

Lydia had just finished the last proof for her final paper, which meant she needed her cheat drink, which was almost complicated enough to rival that dumbass frappucino. Almost. And there was only one person in the state her roommate trusted to make her that drink, which meant--

“Hey, Stiles!” Lydia exclaimed, with a sense of false cheer believable to anyone but Allison and said barista. Lydia had spent all of highschool hiding her real feelings, and her closest friends had spent that same time memorizing her microexpressions. Stiles looked up from his conversation behind the counter with-- yeah, it was her, leather jacket and all. But this time, she was rocking a green apron.

“Oh my god, you work here now?” Allison demanded, ignoring Lydia’s glare.

Erica grinned and leaned across the counter, and ok, was she doing that on purpose? Because Allison had a really nice view, like wow, and Erica was drumming her cherry red nails lazily across the wooden surface like she was waiting for Allison to make a different, more flattering comment.

“Nah, Stiles just decided I needed to learn how to make my own drink.” Stiles groaned.

“No one orders ‘tuxedo’ mochas anymore Erica, what is this, 2008?” Stiles teased. “But that’s not entirely true. Erica did start up here, but we have a pretty rigorous training process, so she won’t be in the normal rotation for a couple weeks.”

Allison was just starting to wonder why Stiles had paid so much attention to what coffees were popular in 2008  when Lydia brought her back to earth.

“That’s great and all, but I came here to celebrate. I’m needing some nutella love, Freckled and Flannel.”

Stiles may have been willing to criticize Erica’s drink while she was behind the machines, but he was always polite to customers, so he just smiled at Lydia and got to work. Erica, on the other hand, looked completely baffled as Stiles reached for a container on the shelf rather than the usual rack of pumps.

“What the hell is the difference between hazelnut syrup and hazelnut sauce?” Since Lydia was too busy making sure Stiles didn’t fuck up, so Allison jumped in.

“According to Lydia, one is ‘liquid plastic’ and the other is ‘actually worth your time’. I think the sauce is made with brown sugar and real hazelnuts.”

Erica looked stunned, as though Allison’s knowledge of obscure coffee additives came as a surprise. Allison was marginally offended.

“What? I drink my coffee black for a reason. I tried to like the other stuff, I really did. Coffee is just better on its own. Speaking of which, Stiles will be busy for awhile, Lydia always has him redo it at least once. You work here now, do you think you can handle my order?” Allison’s drink wasn’t difficult, it literally involved picking up a cup and pressing a button, but she said it like a challenge anyway.

It took her a minute, but Erica’s grin slowly crept back onto her face.

“Definitely.”

  
  



End file.
